Week two of the column. This one's about the crockpot — specifically, how one appliance can save a military family during deployment. I wrote about the crockpot chicken (the survival recipe) and Mom's pot roast (the Sunday recipe) and the way a slow cooker turns a kitchen into a companion: you put food in at 8 AM and when you come home at 6 PM, the house smells like someone cooked. Even when you're the only one there. Even when the only person is you and a baby and the silence.
'The crockpot is the most underrated member of a military family,' I wrote. 'It doesn't deploy. It doesn't PCS. It just sits on the counter and makes dinner, reliably, without complaint, which is more than can be said for most things in military life.'
Four thousand views. The crockpot resonates. Everyone owns one. Everyone uses one during hard times. The crockpot is the universal military wife tool.
Caleb is fourteen months old and has added four words to his vocabulary: da-da, ma-ma, mo (more), and — I am not making this up — 'nana,' which is either banana or an attempt at grandma and nobody knows. He says it while pointing at bananas AND while looking at photos of Mom on the fridge. The word serves double duty. Efficient. Abernathy.
Ryan is adjusting to Pendleton life. His new unit is different from Lejeune — bigger, more active, more travel. He's been out on training exercises twice already this month, which means two nights alone with Caleb. Two nights that aren't deployment but feel like miniature versions of it: the empty chair, the solo dinner, the bedtime without backup.
I cook through it. Obviously. Monday alone: Mom's chili. Tuesday alone: leftovers. Ryan came home Wednesday and I'd made his favorite — the Korean short ribs, Soo-Jin's recipe — and he walked in and smelled the marinade and said, 'I missed you.'
He didn't say 'I missed the short ribs.' He said 'I missed you.' But the short ribs were part of it. The food is part of the person. You miss the whole package.
Mom's call tonight was shorter than usual. She sounded tired. 'Just a long day,' she said. 'Your father's knee is acting up. I'm fine.'
She's sixty-two. Dad is fifty-three. They're not old, but they're aging, and California is far, and I can't bring her chicken soup when she has a long day.
I can write about her, though. I can put her in every column, every blog post, every recipe card. I can make sure the world knows that Donna Abernathy held a family together with dinner at 1800, and that's not a small thing. That's everything.
Ryan walked in on Wednesday and smelled the marinade and said he missed me —and I understood exactly what he meant, because food is never just food in this house. Since I can’t always make Soo-Jin’s short ribs on short notice, these Raspberry Balsamic Crockpot Meatballs have become my weeknight stand-in: sweet, tangy, deeply savory, and —most importantly —made by the most reliable member of this household, the crockpot, while Caleb and I went about our day. You set it in the morning, and by dinnertime the house smells like someone who loves you made dinner. Some nights, that’s everything.
Raspberry Balsamic Crockpot Meatballs
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 4–6 hours (low) | Total Time: ~6 hours | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 2 lbs frozen fully-cooked meatballs (beef or turkey)
- 1 cup raspberry preserves
- 1/3 cup balsamic vinegar
- 2 tablespoons soy sauce
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 tablespoon brown sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- Fresh parsley or green onions, for garnish (optional)
- Cooked white rice or egg noodles, for serving
Instructions
- Mix the sauce. In a medium bowl, whisk together the raspberry preserves, balsamic vinegar, soy sauce, minced garlic, brown sugar, red pepper flakes, and black pepper until smooth and combined.
- Load the crockpot. Add the frozen meatballs to the crockpot in a single layer (or as close as possible). Pour the raspberry balsamic sauce over the top and gently stir to coat all the meatballs.
- Slow cook. Cover and cook on LOW for 4–6 hours or on HIGH for 2–3 hours. Stir once halfway through if you’re home —but don’t worry if you’re not. That’s the whole point.
- Finish and thicken. In the last 20 minutes of cooking, remove the lid and switch to HIGH to let the sauce reduce and glaze the meatballs, stirring once or twice.
- Serve. Spoon over cooked white rice or egg noodles. Garnish with fresh parsley or sliced green onions if desired. Leftovers keep in the refrigerator for up to 4 days.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 410 | Protein: 20g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 540mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 198 of Rachel’s 30-year story
· San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.
